ceramic flew everywhere. She rushed out of the bathroom, cussing up a storm while the tiles continued to rain down.
“This is ridiculous!” she yelled, watching from the doorway. Dripping wet hair, goosebumps racing across her skin, and chattering teeth were not a good way to start off the morning, especially since she had to be at her new job in less than an hour.
Ashley stomped into the bedroom, slipped on a pair of clogs, and walked back into the bathroom. Shards of porcelain crunched beneath the soles of her shoes as she gathered up essential toiletries and hurried toward the second bathroom. Keeping a cautious eye at that ceiling, she finished getting ready.
A half hour later, Ashley stood before a full-length mirror in the master bedroom scrutinizing her black top tucked into a dark plum skater skirt. The formfitting top was low-key sexy, and normally she wouldn’t have had second thoughts, but Zach had warned her about his friend being a womanizer and didn’t want to give this guy the wrong impression. Ashley groaned as she pulled the top over her head and tossed it on the bed alongside an ivory lace blouse and a black fitted shirt; then she walked over to the closet and stared. Grabbing a long-sleeved black top with lace cuffs, she hurriedly pulled it on and tucked it into her skirt.
After applying a sheer pink lipstick, Ashley glanced at herself again in the mirror: Skirt just above the knee—check; top not emphasizing my boobs and wide belt drawing attention away from them—double check; black tights instead of bare legs—check, and low-heeled boots—check. She exhaled slowly. Okay then. All’s good. Ashley shrugged on a black wool coat, slung a large tote bag over a delicate shoulder, and walked out of the room.
When the garage door didn’t open, Ashley didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, scream, or pack it in and go back to bed and pull the covers over her head. She had absolutely no clue what to do since she’d never lived in a place that had an attached garage. Taking out her phone, she accessed Lyft and cursed for the umpteenth time that morning when the app told her a driver would be at her house in twenty minutes.
“I’m totally late,” she said aloud while shoving the phone into her purse.
Thirty minutes later, Ashley walked into a five-story building and pressed the button for the elevator, her right foot tapping on the glossy vinyl floor. So far, today is a damn disaster, but the bright side is that it can’t get much worse. She stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the fifth floor.
The brass doors swished open, and Ashley quickly walked over to a large wooden door emblazoned with the name A+ Construction in gold lettering. Pulling the door open, the first thing she saw was a glass curtain wall that looked out over the town and jagged mountain peaks. The rest of the lobby was done in shades of brown, rust, and crimson. Several brown leather chairs dotted the area in front of a sleek brown and granite counter, and oil and watercolor paintings of the great outdoors decorated softly textured walls. Vases with Native American designs and several bronze and pewter sculptures of the Old West rested on pedestals around the room. In several corners, hand-woven baskets and planters held floral arrangements and greenery.
“May I help you?” a woman asked, a tinge of irritation in her voice.
Ashley looked over at the counter and smiled. “Hello,” she said, walking toward the receptionist. “I’m Ashley Callahan. I’ll be working here for the next few months.” She held out her hand.
The ginger-haired woman narrowed her eyes. “We don’t need you here.”
Taken aback, Ashley stared at the receptionist, wondering if she’d heard the woman correctly.
“I place the ads and things are going just fine.”
“If they were going so well, Mr. Harty wouldn’t have hired my firm. Can you please tell me where my office is?”
The woman shrugged and turned away. “I dunno.”
Ashley placed a hand on her hip as her body temperature quickly rose. “Then find someone who does,” she replied.
The receptionist leaned over and picked up the phone receiver and pushed a button. “Some lady’s here saying she works here now. I don’t know anything about that.” As she listened to the response, the woman kept scowling at Ashley.
What’s is her fucking problem? Man, I wish I was back in Denver. You owe me big time for this bullshit, Zach.